Unwrapped Bundles
by Meddler
Summary: Once Sherlock returns from the fall John is completely sure life will turn back to normal... That is until Sherlock receives a call that changes everything once more.
1. Chapter 1

John was finally getting used to the idea of Sherlock being back in Baker Street. He smiled to himself, finally feeling as though his life was reaching equilibrium. He leaned back into his recliner and stared out of the window. The sun was shining, something that had not occurred in weeks, and a pleasant breeze wafted through the window, as a warm front came in.

"OBVIOUSLY!" shouted Sherlock Holmes, startling John from his daydream.

John turned to his former flat mate and watched the detective run to the other side of the room in just a few strides. Sherlock reached down and picked out what looked like a receipt from a pile of papers. John waited patiently for Sherlock to give the explanation that led to his major breakthrough, a patience that still stuck with him even after two years.

"Obvious, John," the detective muttered as he scanned through the receipt, "we were just looking at the wrong aspect." He flattened the receipt before John, "We were looking at what was on the receipt, but we should have been looking at the receipt itself. Mr. Marber claimed he was had not visited the camp site for two days. However, if you observe the receipt that was found in his pocket when he was brought into custody, you can clearly see what, John?"

John opened his mouth to answer but was cut off, "Ash, John. The ash that is found in campfires."

"You don't know for certain it's ash until the lab tests it." John protested.

"We both know it's ash." Sherlock pouted as he put the receipt into a plastic baggie and handed it to John, "Take it to the lab to prove I'm right."

John rolled his eyes as the detective over annunciated his last two words.

"Can't Sherlock I've got to run."

"I expect it not to be fast." Sherlock muttered.

"Mary and I have a date at _Sheldon's._" John said, ignoring Sherlock.

"Sounds like I am really missing out." Sherlock sighed as he flopped himself onto the couch, "Still bring the sample, since you're the one so keen on proving it's ash."

"Don't mind me just following the law," John scoffed as he rose from the chair and grabbed his jacket, "Now if you're a good boy, maybe I'll bring home a doggie bag for you."

"No, Garlic please." Sherlock yawned as he draped an arm over his eyes, "Oh, and extra bread."

As John made his way to the door, Sherlock's phone rang. John picked up the pace hoping Sherlock would not ask him to get his phone for him, a task Sherlock was incapable of.

"John." Sherlock called, not moving from his place on the couch.

John, groaned as he turned around and headed back inside the flat.

"Answer it, and tell them I am not here."

"That's what voicemail is for Sherlock," said John as he reached for the phone on the table, "The number looks American."

Sherlock sprang up and snatched the phone, bringing it to his face. "From New York, how odd."

He smirked at John, and raised an eyebrow as he answered it, locking eyes with John.

"Hello. Yes. Yes." Sherlock's eyes widened, "Dead? How? When? A what?"

John was amused by the lengthy pauses between questions, and the blank stare in Sherlock's eyes. He smiled as he turned his back to Sherlock and headed towards the door. Although he was curious to what left Sherlock baffled, for the great detective was hardly left speechless, he did have a reservation to catch.

"John, wait." Sherlock called. There was a slight rasp to his voice.

John sighed and lent against the wall, waiting for the conversation to be over.

"Are you sure? No one else? Can you fax over these forms? Same number. Right. Tuesday. Bye then."

"What was that about." John asked looking at his watch.

"American Child Protective Services." He said as he leaned into the couch. "Apparently I have a child."

John let out a loud laugh, "Funny, Sherlock. It really is but I promised Mary this one."

"I am serious John. I met a young woman in New York less than a year ago. There was a short affair, and it ended quickly and quietly. There was no mess."

"Sherlock," John sighed, "I am flattered you want my company, but I need to go."

"Apparently she got pregnant, and delivered a child 12 hours ago. Katherine, the woman, did not make it, but the child did."

"And this 'child' is yours?" John laughed, "You believe that."

"Katherine hemorrhaged, later that night, but put on the birth certificate that I was the father. She hadn't had any relations, a year before me, so why would she have one so soon after." He got up and began to pace, "Perhaps I gave her the confidence to branch out….. But she was always busy, we only worked out because we were working the same case, with the same odd hours….. Maybe she met another detective on her next case…. But, no. She said that she was taking it slow after that case…. Did she already know she was pregnant at that point? Timing would be right…"

As Sherlock babbled on John stared at the wall. "Sherlock, how can you care for a child. A baby at that."

Sherlock stared at him and paused with his rambling. He exhaled deeply. " The baby can't be mine, every precaution was made. Someone with social services is flying out on Tuesday with the baby, and we can have proper tests made."

"Alright Sherlock, but what if the baby is yours." John sighed rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"We'll have to raise it." Sherlock said picking up his violin.

"WE!?" John shouted, " There is no WE there is just YOU. YOU who got a girl pregnant."

"You are going to let me raise a baby on my own?" Sherlock asked, slightly bemused.

"I feel like I am raising a bloody teenager." John muttered and he swung open the door.

Sherlock began to strum at the violin and turned his back to John, "Don't forget the doggie bag."

John slammed the door behind him, and made his way down the steps. Equilibrium my ass.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock's face remained calm as the small party waited in the airport. Mary had insisted on going, and when Molly overheard the news at work she claimed he could help as well.

"_I'm pretty decent with babies. My sister had two, 3 summers ago, and for a month I helped her. I even stopped her from killing one. He was carrying on for days. They claim his crying made the other one deaf. But there I walked in on her looking over at the baby and holding a pillow. She looked horrid. She hadn't slept for a while. She's okay now. She has pills." _She drifted off gradually, once she realized that she was oversharing.

Sherlock refused to bring in the cradle and changing table Mrs. Hudson offered. He was still insisting that the baby was not going to be his. Mary had intercepted though, and was hiding them in back room of the loft. She had also collected a handful of nappies, formula, and whatever else friends had offered.

The screen ahead of them flashed green, indicating that the flight had arrived.

"Are you ready for the first day of the rest of your life?" Mary teased, as she nudged Sherlock.

"No, because it is an ordinary day, with a small inconvenience I have to put aside." Sherlock mumbled.

"That's the spirit." John coughed. "Here Sherlock want to do the honors." John held out a piece of cardboard with the name Holmes on it."

"No."

"Do it." Mary hissed into his ear, but with a smile, as the passengers began to come through the terminal.

Sherlock snatched the sign and held it in front of him, scanning the crowd.

"There!" Molly pointed.

Heading towards them was a small elderly woman with straight black hair, carrying a baby seat.

"Hi Mr. Holmes, I am Emily Banks." She outstretched her hand smiling, "If you don't mind I have a room reserved in the airport to go through the paperwork before giving you the baby."

Sherlock stared blankly at her as he shook her hand. " I didn't know they let ex alcoholics become Social Workers. Especially ones who may or may not have some recent drug abuse. I did hear they were legalizing things there though. Also you may want to get rid of a cat or three. You're daughter's worried about you so you should hurry back to the states. I think it's your liver that makes her nervous."

The woman stood there stunned and clearly offended. "How.."

"Kidding!" John half yelled, forcing himself to chuckle as if to go along with a joke. "He has a poor sense of humor. We are working on it though. Let's be off then." He quickly spoke, trying to immediately change the subject, a technique he has now mastered, after dealing with a sociopath for so long.

The woman led the way towards the room, chatting with a silent Sherlock the entire way.

"A lamb the entire way, only cried once because the poor thing is hungry. Which reminds me I have extra formula and diapers in my bag. Oh! Here we are!"

The woman pushed open a conference room door and held it open until the four others were in.

"Now then," she sighed in relief as she put the carrier down. "I have a few forms for you to sign before I am on my way back."

She reached into her bag and pulled out a folder. "These are medical forms, and here are the legal forms in which I need you to sign the top and bottom."

"What do I need to do if I find out the child is indeed not mine." Sherlock interrupted sitting across from her, eyeing the blanket covered carrier.

"Oh, um well.." The woman looked around the room searching for someone to give her assistance.

"He means that if he gets a paternity test, and it says that the baby is not his." John sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

" Well page four explains that he must contact child services, they need to review the test, and then find the next of kin, or the child be put in a home." Emily said pushing the documents towards Sherlock.

Without taking his eyes off the carrier, he slid the papers towards him. The carrier was the kind that can be used as a car seat, and relatively worn judging by the scuff marks on the bottom. An off white blanket had been placed over it, either to shield the baby from prying eyes or to serve as a more comfortable environment for the baby. The blanket was also used, Sherlock noted the blanket had been worn thin in certain parts. Glancing down at the papers, he scribbled his signature down, and somewhat violently slid them towards the woman.

Sherlock stood up quickly and paced around the carrier, resembling a shark analyzing its prey. He lifted the carrier up and placed it on the table. Slowly he peeled the blanket off the top and looked in.

"Looks just like you." Molly whispered peering over his shoulder.

The baby did resemble Sherlock, even he could admit that. Sleeping peacefully with its mouth slightly open, a mouth shape that almost mirrored Sherlock's. A little fist was placed under the chubby face, mimicking what the detective often does as he thinks. Its nose was small and slightly turned up, but what was most noticeable was the puff of blonde hair on top of the baby's head.

"All that blonde." Mary whispered nudging Sherlock aside, and reaching in to unstrap the baby.

"Katherine was.. a blonde." Sherlock said stepping back to give Mary room.

"So tiny, the poor thing." Mary cooed as she cradled the baby.

"She needs to stick to the formula we provided for you, it is available in London too, we already checked." Emily sighed as she slung the bag over her back, "I'm off, I have to catch the flight back tonight."

"She?" Sherlock asked turning to the woman who was heading towards the door.

"The birth certificate is on the table, and feel free to call if anything arises regarding the care or custody of the baby."

The door closed behind her, and Sherlock strode towards the table. He picked up an off white piece of paper and read it out loud. "Eleanor Amelia Holmes."

"We should head back to Baker Street before she wakes up" Mary whispered placing the baby back in the carrier.

"Nonsense, we are going to St. Bart's to get this paternity test done." Sherlock objected grabbing the papers from the table.

Molly protested, "It takes hours for a paternity test to be done."

"Not if we have a wonderful connection to the hospital, to rush things." He grimaced opening the door, "Let's hurry and get this ordeal over with."

By the time they had gotten back to Baker Street everyone was thoroughly exhausted. The baby had woken up when she was getting her blood drawn and had not stopped screaming since.

It was officially proven that the baby was indeed Sherlocks'.

" _She is more yours than Baker Street is." Molly said handing Sherlock the lab reports._

"Here hold her Sherlock." A now frazzled Mary panted, as the baby screamed.

Sherlock remained silent and looked at her with an almost panicked expression on his face.

"I'd rather not."

Mary bent down and placed the baby in his awkwardly held out arms.

"Support her head here," Molly said grabbing Sherlock's and placing it under the baby's head, " And use your arm to support her back."

"Fascinating," He whispered as he observed the crying child, "how small we all start."

"She has your eyes," Molly pointed, "You can notice it against the red… of her crying face."

The baby did indeed have piercing blue eyes, that were more noticeable against the dark red of the babies face.

"Most babies are born with blue eyes," he mused peering down at the baby.

"I've seen plenty of babies in my time, and these are the blue you keep." Said a now present Mrs. Hudson.

A silence fell upon the room. Even the baby quieted a little.

"Hungry." He said standing up with the baby in his arms. " She needs the formula, it's been hours."

"Right," John said reaching into the bag and pulling out powdered formula, "Be right back."

"I'm off Sherlock," Molly said as she reached down and stroked the baby's head gently, "I'll be sure to stop by soon to see how you're off."

"Thank you Molly Hooper." He said, not taking his eyes off the baby.

"Bye John!" Molly called into the kitchen, "It's been lovely."

John gave an incoherent sound and Molly left, gently closing the door behind her.

" Now Sherlock," Mary began," She needs to be fed almost every three hours. After you feed her you need to burp her. When you do burp her, make sure you put something on your shoulder, she'll cough up. Also make sure her diaper is dry, because a wet diaper means an unhappy baby."

Sherlock stared at her taking note of everything she said.

She laughed, "You are one of the smartest men I know, you can do this."

"One of?" he mumbled.

"Exactly," Mary said, getting up off the couch, "I'm off now. I am going to fix some supper, and I will bring it back to the flat for you and John."

"Thanks Mary." Sherlock said.

"Be good boys," she called walking out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

That first night was living hell for John and Sherlock, and it all began with the formula.

"Here's the bottle." John said walking over to Sherlock, who was holding the very unhappy baby.

"Aren't you supposed to check it first?" Sherlock asked furrowing his brow.

"Why would I?"

"To see if it's too hot? I think that's what you're supposed to do."

"You try." John sighed, handing Sherlock the bottle.

"You're the doctor, you are qualified how to do it." Sherlock stated, handing the bottle back to John.

"How do I do it?" John asked looking at the white liquid.

"Drink it."

"Oh for God's sake, take it, its fine." John scoffed handing the bottle once more to Sherlock.

"Fine, give me your arm."

"What, wh- AGHH!" John yelled grabbing his arm, "That is hot."

"See. Well better you than a new born."

"There's a welt!" John cried, showing Sherlock his raw arm.

"There is burn cream in the cabinet. Somewhere."

When John returned to the living room with a bandaged arm, the baby was already eating.

"When do you think Mary is coming back?" John asked, checking his watch.

"In a half hour, would be my guess." Sherlock shrugged. "Make sure she brings the basinet, I don't plan on staying like this all night. I have cases."

"I don't think you will be working on cases anytime soon mate."

"Don't be ridiculous, there is plenty of time in a day."

"I don't think you know much about babies Sherlock." John sighed as he looked at the brand name of formula and wrote it down. " We need to pick up formula tomorrow, as well as diapers, and other things."

"She's done."

"What? Oh. Okay I'll take the bottle then." John said grabbing the bottle and bringing it into the kitchen. He was careful to rinse it carefully under warm water, and place it in a cabinet free of Sherlock's experiments.

When he returned, Sherlock was holding the baby over his shoulder and gently patting her back.

"I think you have to do it harder." John sighed sitting down next to him.

"I don't want to break her back."

"Just a little harder."

Within five seconds there was a small erp.

" I didn't put a towel on my shoulder, did I?" Sherlock winced.

John peered over and smiled, "Nope."

"Lovely. Hold her while I change."

"Sherlock.." John started, but it was too late, the baby was in his lap and Sherlock was out the door.

"There ,there." John said, awkwardly rocking the baby.

The baby gurgled, staring straight at John.

"It looks like I am staring right at your Daddy." John sighed.

"Speaking to newborns?" Sherlock asked, buttoning up his new shirt.

"You speak to skulls."

"Well at le-"

"I'm back!" Mary called, shuffling in with a large bag.

"Finally." John sighed, handing the baby to Sherlock and began to help Mary unpack the basinet.

"Can I put her down to sleep?" Sherlock asked.

"Has she been fed?" Mary asked.

"Yes."

"Burped?"

"Yes."

"Sounds like it's fine to put her to bed." Mary shrugged.

Sherlock placed her in the basinet carefully, he was so afraid she might break since she was so fragile looking.

"Make sure there are not too many pillows around her," Mary called from the kitchen. "Crib death is still a thing these days."

Sherlock sat down at the table sighing heavily, he was already exhausted.

"Don't expect a lot of sleep tonight." Mary said through a forkful of pasta.

"Babies tend to be unpredictable with sleep." John remarked, "I'm sure you'll be entertained by that."

"Everything is predictable." Sherlock shrugged.

"I left you clothes in the bag for tonight John." Mary pointed to the bag in the corner with her fork.

"For what?"

"You're not letting Sherlock spend the night alone with the baby are you?"

John looked at Sherlock and sighed, "Are you staying, Mary?"

"Funny thought, but I plan to sleep tonight."

**1AM**

The baby began to cry. Sherlock woke with a start and groaned. He had just started to doze off on the couch.

"You smell terrible." Sherlock sniffed, while picking the baby up, and holding it away from him.

"John I need help!" Sherlock yelled.

John woke up from his chair groaning, "Just change the diaper."

"I don't know how."

"Christ."

**1:45AM**

"NO NO NO! You stick it there. She has two legs you know! Not one!" John yelled.

"Well you could move out of the way I could have better lighting."

"You move!"

"Shut up!"

"OH SHIT!

"There is fecal matter on the floor."

"No shit Sherlock."

**2:30AM**

"She's finally asleep and everything is cleaned up."

"Let's get some rest."

**3:00AM**

"She must be hungry."

**3:15AM**

"No she just shit again."

**4:00AM**

"This time she must be hungry, I'll get it this time."

**4:20AM**

"She fell asleep while drinking it."

**4:30AM**

"I think she pooped it smells."

**5:00AM**

"It smells so bad. Put the poop outside and spray."

**5:30AM**

"It smells like Clorox, you've gassed us , and are going to kill us."

**6:30AM**

"She's quiet. Is she breathing?"

**7:00AM**

"She must be hungry again."

**7:10AM **

"She fell asleep halfway through."

**7:00AM**

"I guess she wants the rest of that bottle."

**8:00AM**

Mary couldn't help but to laugh when she walked in. John was sleeping on the floor, curled up into a ball while he clutched an empty bottle in his hands. Sherlock, on the other hand was stretched on the couch, with his arm around a sleeping baby lying on his chest.

"Look at the babies." Mary chuckled as she quickly snapped a picture of the scene with her camera phone.


End file.
